


Gold Lust

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Deviant behavior, Established Relationship, Everybody Lives, M/M, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 20:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/714558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin suffers from the gold lust of his family. Bilbo does his best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold Lust

Bilbo was happily relaxing at his desk, writing his own version of their adventures to Erebor, when a knock sounded at the door. "Enter," he called absentmindedly, meticulously finishing a paragraph before looking up.

 

Bofur hovered just inside the closed door, wringing his hat in his hands, lips twisted in a worryingly way. "Bofur?" Bilbo asked, alarmed. "Whatever is wrong?"

 

"It's...Thorin," the normally ebullient dwarf whispered, looking down and flushing. "He...he wouldn't want you to see him, but we think you're the only one..."

 

"Only one what?" Bilbo burst out, standing abruptly and shedding his dressing gown, hunting about for the tunic he'd stripped off earlier. "Is he ill? Has he done something foolish? Did he fall down a mineshaft?" Bilbo found the tunic and hauled it on, nearly choking himself as it was backwards, and hurriedly tugged his arms from the sleeves and twisted it forwards. He fumbled about for a belt and landed on one of Thorin's, tugging it on and tying the leather instead of bothering with a buckle, pouncing forward to snatch at Bofur and the door. "Well? Out with it!"

 

Bofur slammed the door shut, ripping the knob from Bilbo's hand, and Bilbo turned, astonished. "I can't speak of it in the halls!" Bofur said, hysteria edging his words. "'Tis awful shameful. He's...it's..." Bofur was clearly struggling mightily to put into words an apparently forbidden topic. At Bilbo's frantic gestures, he finally choked out, "goldlust."

 

"Gold lust?" asked Bilbo, dumbstruck. "Isn't that... A dragon thing?"

 

"Dwarrows can suffer from it," Bofur said, more earnestly now that the forbidden words were in the air. "Tis awful shameful, like I said. Means a dwarf has lost control of himself. Thorin's family suffers mightily from it, Thror was struck by it the worst. Thorin had never shown it, I've heard, but...he was very young when Erebor was lost, and it grows with age, or so they say."

 

With that astonishing conversation over, Bofur whipped the door open, ushering along Bilbo, who was still a little shellshocked from yet another dwarvish revelation.

 

They arrived at the great hall in little time, many of the passing dwarrows throwing Bilbo worrying or pitying glances. Bofur hesitated at the great arching entrance, shuffling his feet and staring at the floor. "You'll find him," he muttered. "Isn't right for me to see. If you can't shake him of it...don't blame yourself, lad." Bofur clapped Bilbo on the shoulder, squeezing and looking up to stare deep into Bilbo's eyes before turning and hurrying away.

 

Bilbo slid into the hall, silencing his steps, casting around for Thorin. A silky clinking was the only noise in the hall, difficult to pinpoint due to the bounding echos within the huge space. An unusual flicker of light in the far left corner from Bilbo gave away a torch, and he slid towards it, feeling like a ghost floating through the abandoned hall.

 

Thorin came into view, secreted behind a pillar, torch mounted above him. The clinking noise was from him sifting through a chest filled with jewelry, which he sat in front of, a curtain of hair hiding his face from Bilbo. The hobbit squinted at the chest as he approached, the look of it tickling his brain a bit, but was distracted by Thorin abruptly whipping around and staring at Bilbo. He hunched over the chest protectively and then grimaced, slowly pulling himself upright to stand. "Yes?" Thorin ground out as Bilbo came within arm's length of him. His voice sounded--tortured, lost, like it had when Bilbo first met him in Bag End.

 

"I missed you," Bilbo said, voice sounding tiny and lost, not catching any echo, and he was surprised to find it was true. They both had long days spent fulfilling duties rather than desires, and he'd seen precious little of Thorin for weeks. It was, Bilbo thought ruefully, not the pleasant domestic life he'd previously imagined of his marriage, especially considering some of the complications. Like, for example, the present moment.

 

Thorin looked torn, turning to glance down at the chest before dragging his eyes back up to Bilbo. "I...miss you too," he said, haltingly, and his shoulders relaxed, some subtle heat and panic leaving his eyes. Bilbo stepped forward, slowly, cautiously, leaving his hands in plain sight. He knew full well what it was like to startle a dwarf, and as hardy as he was for a hobbit, he wasn't sure how many more times he could have the full weight of a dwarf attack him before something gave in. Probably his poor, abused arse, Bilbo's  filthy mind offered, and he hastily--and blushingly--dismissed that thought.

 

Thorin was watching Bilbo warily, hands twitching, before he lunged forward and clutched Bilbo in a tight embrace, burying his face in the junction of Bilbo's neck and shoulder. Bilbo clung back, surprised by a wave of sweet fondness and relief, trying to soothe circles into the wide expanse of Thorin's back.

 

"It's so strong," Thorin said, muffled into Bilbo's skin, the wetness of helpless tears sliding between their skin. "I remember watching my grandfather in his fits, wondering if I would ever fall that low."

 

Bilbo's heart squeezed, and he blinked hard, forcing back his own tears. Thorin always tried so hard to be strong for everyone, and it crushed Bilbo every time the dwarf crumbled before him, struggling with Thorin's pain and embarrassment plus his own helplessness in being able to assist.

 

"I'm here, I'm here," Bilbo whispered as Thorin trembled against him, lost for better words, the magic sounds that would heal all that was wrong from the world. Somehow, they crumpled to the ground, a mess of limbs and emotion, two drowning figures in the vast, rocky embrace of the mountain.

 

Finally, Thorin lifted his head, roughly bumping his forehead against Bilbo's, face blotchy, but the tremble gone from his limbs. Bilbo smoothed a hand over the side of Thorin's face and around to the back of his neck, gently squeezing to convey relief.

 

A thought occured to Bilbo, and he jolted, causing Thorin to squeeze the breath from him.

 

"Augh, Thorin!" Bilbo squeaked out, weakly thrashing against Thorin's far greater strength, and panted in relief when he was released.

 

"Is something wrong?" Thorin asked anxiously, drawing back to search Bilbo's eyes, and Bilbo resisted the urge to box Thorin's ears for his pertness, is something _wrong_ , honestly, that's Bilbo's question to ask, thank you, and then remembered his thought.

 

"Is that _my_ jewelry chest?" Bilbo asked suspiciously, and Thorin's blotchy face flushed all over with a brighter red. "It is, isn't it!"

 

"Well, um, yes," Thorin hedged, eyes darting around to everything but Bilbo's face, guilt crossing his face.

 

Bilbo eyed him mistrustfully, wondering if further conversation on the topic was wise, but curiosity won out. "Is it...usual, to sit around pawing through one's husbands' jewelry?" he asked, half in jest, but Thorin glowed a brighter red and tucked his chin into his chest, mumbling vaguely in a mix of Khuzdul and Westron.

 

"Thorin!" Bilbo shrieked, mortified, and Thorin tumbled him down onto the floor gently, kissing him clearly just to shut him up, face still glowing an astounding shade of red.

 

Bilbo supposed he could forgive Thorin....eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> I imagine that playing with your lover's jewelry is essentially the dwarven equivalent of panty sniffing. Shame on Thorin, to do it in public! The things that happen when I'm supposed to be packing. 
> 
> Due to my haste in writing, I apologize for any egregious errors I missed.


End file.
